


just to cure it (cause i can't ignore it)

by brahe



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, Protective House, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sass and Sarcasm, glaring, house dishes out some sass and then gets to take wilson home for the night, idk this is kind of a mess, on the way to, sort of, there's no real plot here, this is set somewhere during the beginning of the volger arc, volger is annoying and gross and a little creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: She says it mostly to get Volger to leave her alone, but she knows there's some truth in the statement - she only hopes using them as a scapegoat will get them together, not ruin their chances.Or, Cuddy tells Volger that he's looking in the wrong department for House's bedmate, and House and Wilson prove her right.





	just to cure it (cause i can't ignore it)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in december of 2015. i've been going through my old stuff and fixing it up to post, so this is my first published house fic~ yay! anyway, i haven't watched the show in like two years (they also took it off netflix :/) so i don't really remember what scene inspired this, just that volger (obviously) had something to do with it.
> 
> in my head/the lead-up to this fic, house and wilson are already headed towards a relationship and they've maybe kissed once or twice before this, but now it's legit
> 
> title is definitely from accidentally in love by counting crows bc i've listened to it eight times today and it's also lowkey a joke about them being doctors (cure it? get it?)

Cuddy’s job has gotten significantly harder since Volger showed up. She sits back in her desk chair, rubs her head as she thinks about the past week, and the paperwork she still has left to do. She’s looking forward to calling in an early night when there’s a knock on her door.

Volger pushes it open, and offers her a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“Dr. Cuddy,” he says, “I’m glad you’re still here. There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you."

Cuddy spares a moment to mourn for what she was hoping would be a quick escape, and settles back in. “Of course,” she says, trying for amiable and probably falling somewhere around exhausted.

"Are you sleeping with House?" Vogler asks, face completely serious. Cuddy sputters.

"You think I'm sleeping with _House_?" She would call it a scoff but there's too much shock. Is this guy for real?

"You obviously care about him," Vogler says, still entirely behind his question. There's a million things Cuddy wants to point out to him, but it all ends up coming out as a garbled mess.  
"Me and _House_. Are you serious - I can't believe you would...actually, why is that your first assumption? Is it because - nevermind." Cuddy turns her back to him and wills herself to calm down a little. This isn't the first time people assumed she and House were together; she can deal with this.  
Vogler seems oblivious to her disbelief, or doesn't seem to think it makes a difference. He very clearly believes he's right, and she doubts she'll be able to convince him otherwise. _Shocking_ , she thinks bitterly, steeling herself when he begins again.  
"I need to know if you're sleeping with Dr. House, because if you're attached to him, it affects the way business is done."  
_This isn't a business,_ she thinks, collecting the papers on her desk into a neat pile and slipping them into a folder. She's packing up, done dealing with Mr. Vogler and his assumptions for the day.  
"Dr. Cuddy, are you sleeping with House?" Vogler asks for the third time, his voice becoming stern this time. Cuddy just wants to deck him.  
"I think you'll have better luck with Dr. Wilson," she tells him, putting as much sass as she can without getting fired into her sentence. He blinks at her in surprise, and her last thought on the issue as she walks out the door is that she hopes that doesn't cause too much trouble for the two biggest troublemakers she employs.

*

House sits in his office, the lights on dim, tossing his baseball and listening to something on piano, volume low. His thoughts are spread out more than usual. A part of his brain is thinking about his last case, another part about dinner, and yet another part muses about the new chairman. He hates to bother with such heavy thoughts after a long, hard day at work, but he finds himself there anyway.

A soft knock interrupts his stream of consciousness, and when he looks up, Wilson is already inside his office.

"Hey," he says, voice soft. House ignores the warm feeling it gives him.

"Hey yourself," he replies, settling his baseball on the tabletop and turning his full attention to the oncologist. Wilson approaches his desk.  
"How was your day?" Wilson asks. House smirks.  
"Are we doing this now?" he wonders aloud. "Can I walk into your office saying, 'Honey, I'm home!'?" The smirk is firmly in place.  
Wilson laughs sarcastically and situates himself on the corner of House's desk. House says nothing.  
"I was just wondering if you've encountered the new chairman yet," he explains.  
"Ah, yes," House says, leaning back in his chair in a way that seems to exaggerate his height. "The elusive Mr. Vogler."  
The face he makes gets him a real laugh from Wilson and he smiles. Shut up, he's not going soft.

"Word on the street is he and Cuddy have been in a meeting all day, discussing you," Wilson tells him.

"Typical," House says, the usual sarcasm there. Only he's not fully behind it like usual. He's had a rough few days (not that he'd say that out loud), and his mind has been running nonstop lately, making sleeping harder than usual. And Wilson looks...looks _something_ , sitting on his desk with his feet crossed and his hands splayed out behind him. His hair is more tousled than usual - _must have been a busy day,_ House muses. The soft light in the room casts his profile in a faint glow, and if House were at all sentimental, he'd say he looked like something out if a dream. But instead, House thinks he looks deliciously kissable, and isn't _that_ new.

"I haven't met him yet," House says after the pause. Wilson's expression is relaxed and open and it's starting to become distracting.  
"Well, I'll bet it won't be long." He watches House stand up out of the chair and shuffle around, grabbing his pager and phone and shoving them into a pocket. When House gets to the part of the desk where Wilson has made himself comfortable, he reaches out and grabs the lapels of House's suit jacket.  
"Still no coat," he observes. House stands in front of him, closer than is socially normal. He stills and lets Wilson hold onto him, which isn't really new, but he also lets Wilson pull him closer, which is _definitely_ new.  
House hums and lets his gaze sweep over the doctor in front of him.

"Shame," Wilson mutters, "I thought it looked rather good on you."

“You lie!" House's indignant shout fractures the mood, but doesn't totally break it.

"Never," Wilson smirks. House moves as if to walk away, but Wilson just tugs on his jacket with the one hand still holding it. "What, no hello kiss?" he teases. "Why, you're worse than..."

The insult vanishes when House presses their lips together. Wilson makes a small noise of surprise before moving the hand from House's jacket up to the back of his neck. House's fingers find his on the desktop, curling just so around them. If it were anyone else, Wilson would say they were holding hands.

House pulls away first and smiles at the flushed look on Wilson's face. His cheeks are colored a light shade of red, and his lips are on their way to swollen. House doesn't get far, though - Wilson is pulling him back, kissing him again, longer and deeper. This time, House can tell he's as flushed as Wilson.

"Or we could take this back to my place," House suggestions, the humor not quite hitting like usual because of the rougher tone of his voice.  
"It's not even dinner time," Wilson laughs, and it's a bright sound that sort of makes House feel like he's melting.  
"Says who?"  
Wilson just smiles and kisses him again, a few closed-lip pecks, really.  
A throat clearing from the doorway stills Wilson's movement. "Afternoon, doctors," comes Vogler's voice. Wilson turns red, only this time in embarrassment. He slides off the desk and turns around, only House still hasn't moved, so they're pressed incredibly close together.  
Before Wilson can open his mouth and embarrass himself further, House speaks up.  
"You must be the new chairman," he says, looking the man up and down. Wilson can tell from the way House is standing against his back that he doesn't like the man.  
"Dr. House," Vogler says in way of greeting. It's not particularly pleasant. "I've heard a lot about you."  
Wilson feels House's chest move with the suppressed snort at the classic line. Wilson struggles briefly to maintain his own features.

"Unsurprisingly, I can't say the same about you," House says. Wilson smacks him lightly across the chest. Vogler followes the motion with interest and Wilson finds himself partially disgusted.

"I was rather expecting Dr. Cuddy's line to be a joke," Vogler says. It takes less than a second for House to put those pieces together and guess the nature of “Dr. Cuddy’s line.”  _Of course._ It doesn’t surprise him that she’s figured out their relationship before even they have.

House steps away from Wilson, then, limping towards Vogler. The chairman doesn't do a good job of hiding his surprise at House's disability. Wilson glares at him for staring.

"Well, it's not," House says, looking down at the man in front of him. It's not a particularly nice look. The part of Wilson that usually does the mediating between House and real people springs into action suddenly, and he jerks forward. He wraps his hand around House's wrist, whether to ground him or keep him still, he doesn't know.

"Is there something I can help you with?" House asks, and Wilson has half the mind to be concerned about the consequences that tone of voice is going to get him. He squeezes House's wrist enough at the diagnostician looks down at him, albeit briefly. Wilson tries to convey with his face that House should definitely not dig himself a deeper grave, and he seems to understand, if the slight nod is anything to go by.

He can feel Vogler's gaze on them the whole time and it makes his skin crawl.

Vogler looks like he's about to say something when Wilson's pager goes off. He checks it quickly, then looks to House, who nods once. He squeezes House's wrist one more time before excusing himself and leaving the room.

There's a tense air in House's office when Wilson leaves.  
"It seems I've been asking the wrong doctor," Volger says, and anger flares short and sudden in House.

"You will leave him out of this," House practically snarls. Vogler leers.

"And what control do you have over me?" he asks. His tone is smug and House is resisting very urge that screams at him to punch the bastard's face.

"You do not want to cross me," he warns. To Vogler, right now, it's a rather empty threat.

"Or what?" Volger laughs, and it sounds like nails on chalkboard. House is losing his control. It's in this moment, perhaps more than any other, that he wishes he could leave the room in a dramatic swish of his coat. But he can't, and because he can't, he's going to have to improvise.

"Why are you here?" House asks, walking back around to his desk and taking a seat. The complete subject change throws Vogler for a loop, but he catches up quickly.

"To find the cure for cancer."

"No," House shakes his head. "Why are you _here_? Why are you coming after me? Before two minutes ago we'd never even met."

“I’ve heard a lot about you. You can’t get very far in the talk of doctors without the name House popping up."

House nods, and if it could be sarcastic, it would be. “I see,” he says. “And why does it matter who I am or am not sleeping with?"

Volger shrugs, and it takes longer for his retort this time. He shuffles, moves his hands in and out of his pockets, and House resists the urge to smirk. He’s horribly underprepared to deal with the full force of House’s resentment.

“At first I thought Cuddy was sleeping with you, and that’s why you were still here,” he says. House isn’t sure how to respond to that; he’s torn between insulted and defensive.

He decides on, “She wouldn’t."

Volger makes a weird hum sound. “I hear Dr. Wilson is one of the best doctors cancer research has ever seen."

“You’ve heard correctly.” 

Silence follows, and House studies Volger. The man is everything House hates about the practice of medicine: because he has money and has chosen to donate it to a hospital, he seems to think he has control over what happens. There is no control in science, millionaire or not. 

 

Wilson takes this moment to reappear. He knocks once on the door and pushes it open.

“Hey, House…” he begins, but stops when he sees Vogler still in the room.

“Yes, dear?” House prompts, leaning around Volger to see the door. Wilson turns a light shade of pink, and House smirks. He’s hoping Wilson will catch on to his game.

He does.

“I was just coming to see if you’re about ready to go?” he says, and House’s smile is real this time, but short. Wilson’s always shared his dislike of authority, anyway.

“I should be,” House says, with a pointed look at Volger, who’s looking back and forth between them like he’s watching a tennis game. House stands and hobbles to Wilson, leaning down to kiss him soundly. Wilson makes a soft noise in surprise, but then House can feel his smile against his lips.

He turns to Volger. 

“If you’re finished,” he says, but doesn’t wait for a response. He follows Wilson into the hallway, and they’re in the elevator by the time they see House’s door open again.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Wilson says, leaning against the back of the elevator as the doors close. He sounds almost breathless, and House files that away for later reference.

“Me? You were an integral part of that, my dear.”

Wilson sputters, but he’s grinning. He’ll never admit to it, House nows, but he takes just as much fun in vengeance and disruptions as House does.

“Okay, you’re right” he eventually concedes, and it’s not exactly happiness that’s bubbling in the air of the elevator, but it’s definitely something. He looks over at House, gaze appraising, before he raises an eyebrow. “About that offer, before we were interrupted…” he says. House grins, though it’s ruined by the way he drags his eyes up and down Wilson’s body.

“It stands,” he says.

“Excellent."


End file.
